Number XIII
by jessysaurus
Summary: They figure that, sometimes, they don't need hearts to be happy. organizationxiii.


**Number XIII  
**_written by jess_

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Somewhere, far off in the distance, a clock chimed eleven times.

"Role," called a man into the cool air of the night, bringing himself up to full height as he stood in front of ten other people.

"Aw, c'mon, Xiggy, you don't have to act all proper. Superior's not even here yet," yelled out another man with a flourish, hands and arms linking behind his neck casually. A shock of spiky red hair fell down his back, red markings on his face glistening in the darkness of the night.

"Axel," Xigbar muttered, crossing his arms impatiently, "I'm second in command, you know. That means..."

"You know we're all here, Xig," Larxene, a thin blonde who was the only female member of Organization XII, said uninterestedly, picking at her fingernails as her antenna-like bangs bounced atop her head. "You don't have to call role."

"Yes, he does," a cool voice interrupted, "If Superior were to ever find out that someone was disobeying—"

"You're only saying that 'cause you're screwing 'im, Saïx," crowed Axel, basking in the sudden gasp that met his ears. "Heh. Don't even try to hide it. We all know, buddy."

"That is utterly—"

"Guys, can we please not talk about this? Saïx's room is like, two doors down from mine. I _don't _wanna know what he does in there," pleaded a younger man with a funky haircut, dirty blond locks falling into his eyes as he tried to hide his blush. Maybe those cloaks they wore had hoods for a reason.

"Aw, I think we just scarred the kid for life," said a blond-haired man, who was busy shuffling a deck of cards in midair. "We just introduced him to hott, man on man action."

Demyx let out a girly sound as his blush deepened.

"I'm not a little kid!" he protested, crossing his arms proudly, "I'm in the Organization, aren't I?"

"Yeah? Exactly how many missions has Superior put you on? With you alone, I mean?" Larxene smirked.

"Well, um, you see—" Demyx stumbled over his words, cheeks going even redder.

"You don't have to tell them anything, Number IX," muttered a man who was apart from the rest. He had long, dark hair (some would say that his hair was _periwinkle, _but that wasn't manly, so they just settled with "dark") and bangs that only covered one eye, making him look very emo-ish. Except he wasn't, because his fingernails weren't painted and he didn't wish death upon anyone that happened to walk by.

Really. He didn't.

The other ten members of the Organization didn't count, of course.

"What was that, Zexy?" Larxene purred, focusing her attention on the stoic man, "You're sticking up for the kid?" A murmur of conversation broke out among the Organization. Number XI never took it upon himself to help out any of the other members. Yet here he was, sticking up for _Demyx, _the polar opposite of Zexion.

"Ooh, I know why!" called out a man excitedly, bouncing on the balls of his feet. His shocking pink hair was only lessened by the fact that his weapon—a scythe—was the same color of pink as well. Many an Organization member wondered how he was able to brandish the thing with pride. "Zexion's got a thing for the Nocturne!"

Demyx's blushes seemed to blend with one another as he ducked his head further, as if shrinking away from embarrassment. One more comment and they'd have the pair of them figured out.

"Nah, couldn't be," reasoned the Chilly Academic, who was the second smartest of the group. With Zexion being the first, of course. "Someone like Zexion would never be able to handle someone as...feisty as Demyx is." Agreed murmurs were exchanged.

"Yeah, Zexy's too much of a recluse to actually have a relationship with _anyone, _much less Demyx," mocked Axel scathingly, putting a finger to his temple, contemplating.

"Will you guys just shut up? 'M not about to get in trouble for your guys stupidly. As if." A chorus of groans met the Shooter's ears.

"Will you stop with that catch phrase?"

"It's never gonna catch on!"

"Stop trying to be cool, 'cause you know you'll never be."

"Get a new catch phrase. _Got it memorized_?"

Xigbar crossed his arms and glared with his good eye. "I'm superior to all of you, d'you realize that? A simple snap of my finger—" he snapped his fingers for effect, "—and you're done, assigned to kitchen, bathroom, bedroom, and dining room duty for six months."

A stifling silence was his response.

_No one _wanted castle duty.

Organization XII, soon to be XIII, wasn't the cleanest of bunches, to say the least.

Xigbar smirked at the power he had in the palm of his hands. "Right. Now that we're in order, and _not _talking about the love lives of two hormonal driven boys who screw each other daily—" Demyx shrieked and hid behind Zexion, who almost smiled, "—_and _nightly, let's move onto other business. Like role, for example."

Saïx perked up at this. "I knew you'd see reason, Number II."

"Yeah...but I'm only doin' it 'cause I like the way we call out our names," said Xigbar, "It's cool."

"Aww, I hate role!" Larxene muttered, blowing her bangs out of her face absentmindedly. "We all sound so stupid!"

"But we getta do cool things with out weapons and scream out our catch phrases!" Marluxia said with enthusiasm.

"Do you even have a catch phrase, flower boy?" said a tall man with dark, ugly hair and an accent that was terrible. He'd been unusually quit tonight, just like Number V was being, but that was in Lexaeus's nature.

"...No, but that doesn't mean I can't come up with one!"

"Pssh, leave the catch phrase to the professionals, Marly," Axel stated, jutting his chin out, "Like me."

"Or me!" Xigbar interjected.

"I've got one too!" Demyx yelled, waving his arm in the air wildly.

"A lot of us do, actually. Yet we just don't care about most of them," observed Vexen softly. Luxord chuckled as his cards danced in his hands.

"Yeah, like Superior's. 'Anger and hate are supreme!' How lame is that?"

"Pretty lame!" Larxene and Marluxia agreed simultaneously, grinning broadly.

"ROLE, DAMMIT!" the Shooter screamed, fed up with the member's lack of interest in the rules.

"FINE!" was nine member's responses.

"YES!" was Saïx's response.

"I'll start," Number II said, softer than before. He assumed battle position as his two weapons appeared in his hands.

"Number II!" he shouted, doing a series of spins and other theatrical movements, "The Free Shooter!" The others followed suit.

"Number III! The Whirlwind Lancer!"

"Number IV! The Chilly Academic!"

"Number V. The Silent Hero."

"...Number VI. The Cloaked Schemer."

"Number VII! The LUNA DIVINER!"

"Number VIII! The Flurry of Dancing Flames! Got it memorized?"

"Number IX! Dance, Water, Dance! The Melodious Nocturne!"

"Number X. The Gambler of Fate."

"Number _XI. _The _Graceful _Assassin!"

"Number XII. The freakin' awesome better-than-you'll-ever-be Savage Nymph!"

The little spectacle ended with all eleven members grouping together, forming one last pose in their battle stances, weapons raised menacingly.

It was silent for one whole minute.

Then loud, uncontrolled laughter was heard echoing throughout The World That Never Was.

Yes, the Organization was on something, that was for sure.

_They _don't even know what it is, though.

Been lingering too long in Zexion's lab filled with all kinds of odd chemicals, they were.

"S-see!" gasped Xigbar out while clutching his side, "Awesome!"

"We're all complete idiots for actually doing that every day," Zexion muttered, the only one who hadn't broken down laughing. He _had, _however, grabbed a fistful of his Demy's nice ass as the blond stumbled to the ground, laughing uncontrollably. And _that _made up for all the loudness that was giving the Schemer a headache.

"Yeah, but I like bein' an idiot, Zexy!" said Demyx proudly, sitting on the ground, face flushed from the sudden need to prevent oxygen from getting to his lungs. Zexion fought back the urge to jump the blond right then. First they'd have to "welcome" the new member, whoever he was. _Then _he could do whatever he liked with the Nocturne. He was getting dizzy just thinking about it.

"Ahh!" yelled Xigbar suddenly, scrambling to his feet as quickly as possible.

"What's wrong, Xiggy?" Axel asked, staring up at the sky from his spot on the ground. It seemed that half the members had taken to situating themselves on the cold stone floor, tired from all the excitement. "It sounds like you've just—"

Number VIII was cut off by someone who had so rudely interrupted him by clearing his throat loudly.

Wait...

"Superior!" yelped a few members in surprise, spinning around on the ground and facing the man who had just walked up to the stairs that led him to the Altar of Naught. His hands were clasped behind his back patiently and his face was emotionless. No pun intended, really.

Saïx was the first to recover from the shock. "Xemnas! We have a logical explanation for this, let me assure you. You see, we always arrive at the inaugurations early, to, you know, catch up on everyone's lives, as we don't get to see everyone together as often, so—"

"Simmer down, Number VII. I won't punish you for this...lack of professionalism. You aren't on duty, so technically, I can't."

A relieved sigh passed through the eleven members in unison.

"Actually," said the Superior, "There's still time before the clock strikes midnight. I'm just here to confirm that all of you decided to show up."

"Ahh, you just missed it, Superior," Axel said, standing up and facing his Elder, "We just did role; we're all here!"

Xemnas peered at the red-haired boy with humor in his eyes. Well, what would have been humor if it wasn't for the fact that they couldn't be funny. But everyone looks over that little tidbit of information, anyway. So, for all intents and purposes, this Organization _can _be funny, _can _cry, _can _laugh, _can _feel, etc., etc.

"Yes. I can see that, Number VIII," said Number I coolly, gazing at the other ten members for a moment. "I'm glad that you've all decided to show up. I was half convinced that you would all pull a Number XII again."

Larxene grit her teeth absentmindedly.

"Hey, we have a reason for that!" Marluxia declared, his pink scythe, for some reason, still placed firmly in his hands. "It's simple, really..."

"Yeah, I mean, she was the first girl to be recruited. Just a small joke, Superior," added Axel, the most talkative of the entire group hands down.

"Not one of you showed up for her induction. And after that, you kept referring to her as a man or worse, an ant. And _then, _after I specifically told you to stop, you went into her room, strung toilet paper everywhere, painted her walls hot pink, and froze all of her..._intimates_. And you think _that's _just a _small joke_?

It was silent for a moment.

And then a chipper, "Yep," rang out into the night sky.

"Axel!" yelled Larxene, kunai at the ready, bolts of electricity alighting the night eerily.

"Yes, darling?" Axel replied. Number XII made a disgruntled sound and charged for the Flurry of Dancing Flames.

"The pink never came off!" she screamed, throwing her weapons at Axel viciously. "_Never! I have nightmares at night!"_

A collective sigh was heard among the other members. Fire and lightening could never seem to work out their differences with each other, often ending in sweat, blood, tears (the tears coming from Demyx, as one fight between Axel and Larxene once resulted in one Zexion plushie being electrocuted, then burnt to a crisp right before the poor boy's very eyes).

So, needless to say, Demyx, or any other member for that matter, didn't exactly enjoy the constant bickering between the two younger members. They acted like children sometimes, and it was just getting annoying.

Axel and Larxene battled for a few moments, weapons seemingly forgotten, as they punched, kicked, spit, and plain out attacked each other, throwing out countless insults along the way. Whoever had said that you couldn't hit a girl had never met Number VIII. You'd have thought he was fighting Xaldin, not the Savage Nymph.

"Alright you two," said the Superior tiredly after a moment, "Enough." The way he said it, though calmly, made both the Nymph and the Flames stop dead in their tracks. No one wanted to disobey Xemnas when he was using his "calm but deadly" tone of voice; it was worse than Xigbar's evil eye.

"Sorry," replied the two quarrelers, moving to opposite sides of the Altar of Naught and crossing their arms defiantly. They would settle the feud on their own time, where the Superior couldn't see. _Then _they'd be able to use their weapons, and deal even more damage.

"Now that the time of immaturities has past," started Number I, gaze flickering from member to member, seeing all of them straighten a bit more, "I believe it's time to do what we have all gathered together for. The induction of our Number XIII, our newest, and final, member of the Organization."

The air around them suddenly became very tense, all traces of humor and frivolity gone. Everything became more serious just with Xemnas's few words.

The members of Organization XII had never been informed that Number XIII would be their final member. They supposed that the Superior would just keep on recruiting members until he passed on the responsibly to the next in line. The castle was far too large just for thirteen people; the entire World That Never Was was far too unoccupied, even including the lesser Nobodies that the Organization commanded.

There were many questions, yet they did not voice them. Now wasn't the time for questions. While they all liked a little fun now and then, they all knew that this was not a time to have it. This was serious, something that could be inferred with just one look at Xemnas's face, and they could get in trouble if they messed it up. Especially since it would be the last time doing it.

"He is getting prepared now," continued Xemnas, beginning to pace about in a line, back and forth, "I suggest you do the same."

The others were willing to comply. Numbers II though XII lined up accordingly, standing straight, hands clasped behind their backs respectfully, awaiting the new addition to their group. No matter how many times one did this, it was always the same amount of anxiety that bubbled within them. The same questions were always asked to themselves.

"_Who is this person?"_

"_Is he strong? Stronger than me, perhaps?"_

"_What does he have to contribute to us? Must be pretty important to be the last member."_

"_What is his power? Has he an elemental gift? And what about his weapons?"_

"_Hmm...I wonder if he's hott."_

"_He better have a nice ass."_

No matter the question, all the members knew that they would all be answered as soon as the new member walked up the stairs and presented himself to everyone. But even so, they weren't patient in the slightest.

"Dear members of this, our Organization of Nobodies, we have come together for one reason, and one reason only. We have come now, in the dead of night, to continue on the tradition of those before you. The inauguration of a new member, the initiation of our final member, making us not XII, but XIII. Organization XIII." Number I spoke proudly of their group, almost as if they weren't Nobodies at all, but real Somebodies. Somebodies with giant hearts.

"I present to you, Roxas. Number XIII. The Key of Destiny."

All of the members, including Xemnas, awaited with baited breath as the new boy entered through the doors that they couldn't see, but could hear. Anxiety almost overwhelmed them as a small Organization coat was seen, along with a whole body. The hood was up, as was customary, and his arms were crossed over his chest.

"Roxas," said Xemnas, "Show us yourself." The mysterious figure nodded fractionally, moving his hands to bring the hood off his small, boyish—almost girlish—figure.

Light blond hair was the first thing that was noticed. Light blond hair that was did up in soft spikes, extremely boyishly. Next were his eyes. Eyes of a perfect blue hue. Eyes of the blue, blue ocean. Piercing, yet soft. Almost hard, but amazingly mesmerizing. His mouth was set in a line, neither smiling nor frowning, and his pale complexion created an ethereal glow about him, a ghost in the night.

And, before the other members could get over this shock that was called Roxas, he brandished his weapons with confidence, holding them like he'd long since mastered them.

Duel Wielder of the Keyblade.

Oathkeeper and Oblivion.

Light and Darkness.

Together in one.

"Number XIII. Roxas. The Key of Destiny," said the boy quietly, oceanic eyes trained to Xemnas, not knowing where else to look.

And the clock uttered its twelfth chime.

No one had even heard the other eleven chimes.

"Dismissed," said Number I simply, just as Roxas's Keyblades vanished in two beams of light and dark. But the members were too mesmerized by the sight of Roxas. So different. So young. So...

"Hott," whispered Axel in the most normal voice he had ever spoken in. His eyes were glued to the form of the blond, hands balling into fists slightly. It was hard to render Axel speechless, almost impossible, but when one did, it was a sight to see.

Excited murmurs broke out among the Organization, all concerning the new kid and his amazing hotness. Said hotness looked over at them with confusion. They weren't acting very dignified at this point in time.

And then, there was an unspoken agreement. The first one to Roxas wins. The first one to his nonexistent heart gets to keep him forever.

Zexion and Demyx left soon after, with Zexion holding onto Demyx's waist territorially. They would not partake in the game. As would Saïx, and a few older members that had no interest in the boy.

And, as the rest of them began to leave to retire to their beds, all playing the game vowed that they would win over Roxas easily.

The blond glanced at the red-haired man for a fraction of a second so no one would see him.

_Let the games begin._

Little did they know, Axel had already won.


End file.
